


Drowning in Blue

by Macdragon



Category: Addicted to You - Avicii (Music Video)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, F/F, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdragon/pseuds/Macdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're not nice girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning in Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



> Thanks to aphrodite_mine for the beta read.  
> I was very excited to get this prompt, since I love this song and video. Hope you enjoy!

Samantha had never left Michigan. 

Hell, she’d practically never left her little town, Oak Bend, except for a class trip to Chicago in sixth grade and driving over to the college 30 minutes away for drunken frat parties when she was in her early twenties. 

Now, she was closing in on thirty, and she was as stuck as an old pickup spinning its wheels in a snowbank. She spent most of her days and some of her nights in Rodney’s, a catchall diner/bar for Oak Bend. In her free time, she’d listen to the radio or wander around town, walking into the outskirts and up into the hills, boots crunching the fresh snow or dry grass beneath her feet. 

She’d never married, but had a string of bad boyfriends, some old flames from high school, some laborers passing through town on the way to something better. 

“Pretty girl like you needs a husband,” Rodney, the man himself, would proclaim as he snapped at her ass with a dish towel. Always, Samantha just smiled and kept washing dishes. 

Until one day.

One day, she walked out to the counter and saw her sitting there, cool as a cucumber in her white coat and red lipstick, blonde hair coiffed in an elegant bob. Samantha felt dowdy and old-fashioned in front of her. The woman didn’t look like she belonged here. 

“Cup of coffee, please,” the blonde said, lifting her gaze to meet Samantha’s. Her heart started pounding a furious rhythm, and she had to take a deep breath before speaking. 

“Sure thing.” She grabbed the coffee pot from behind the bar and poured, hoping that no one noticed her hands shaking. “You from Chicago?” 

The blonde leaned back, stretching with her hands behind her head, and shrugged. “You could say that.”

“Oh.” Samantha hovered, not sure what to say next. She felt drawn to this woman, her expensive clothes, the floral scent of her perfume wafting in the air. And those blue eyes. “…Need anything else?” 

“Not right now.” The strange woman took a sip of her coffee, attention already drifting around the room, away from her. “Thanks…Samantha.” 

She blushed before remembering that she was wearing a name tag. Nodding, Samantha moved away to wipe a table, but she was still breathless, her pulse rushing in her ears. 

***

Late that night, she walked home, past the old motel. The blonde woman would be staying there; it was the only hotel in town. Samantha hesitated, her steps slowing as she stared up at the dark windows of the decrepit building. 

“Hey.”

A voice drawled out of the darkness, making her jump. She dropped her purse and fumbled to grab for it, cursing. If someone had been trying to sneak up on her they had succeeded, and she wasn’t doing a very good job of recovering. Purse in hand, she straightened and realized that the voice came from the motel porch. 

The woman. Samantha’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Hi,” she squeaked, hating how frightened she sounded. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the porch. The woman was smoking under the paltry porch light, blowing smoke up towards the moths. 

“Are you in a hurry to get home or do you want to join me?” she asked. 

“Sure.” Against her better judgment, Samantha walked up the three steps to the porch, settling into a wicker chair beside the stranger. 

“Anais.” The woman extended a hand, her smile barely visible in the shadows. 

It was an exotic name. Definitely not from around here. 

“Nice to meet you.” Samantha folded her hands in her lap, because they were beginning to tremble like the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. “So, what brings you to Oak Bend? It’s not exactly a tourist spot.”

Anais took a long drag of her cigarette. 

“I needed the quiet.”

She reached into her jacket pocket and took out a silver flask. “Want some?”

Samantha, despite working at a bar, didn’t drink often. But at that moment, she knew that she would refuse the mysterious Anais nothing. She held her hand out and took the flask. The liquid inside burned her throat, and the warmth rushed to her belly. 

“Tell me about yourself, Sam. Can I call you Sam?” Anais said, watching her closely, that smile softening her face. 

“Sure. I don’t know what to say, really. I grew up here, stayed here. My life is boring.” Samantha shrugged, taking another drink from the flask before handing it back. 

Anais laughed. “Would you like to see something more exciting, Sam?” 

Samantha’s breath hitched in her throat, and she curled her hands into fists, the nails biting into her palms. “With you?”

“I mean traveling.” It was too dark to tell, but she could imagine Anais’ eyes sparkling with amusement. Samantha felt ridiculous; she wasn’t even sure what she had been implying. 

“I should go.” She stood up abruptly. “Have a good night.”

“Oh. Yes, it is getting late. But you should stop by again. I need quiet, but I could use company, too.”

“Yeah. I’ll stop by again.” And Samantha hurried off into the night, face burning with embarrassment at her awkwardness. She knew she would stand by her word though—-she wanted to talk to Anais again, no matter where it led. 

***

The first time Anais invited her inside, it was snowing outside. That was their excuse. Of course they couldn’t sit on the porch, huddled in blankets and parkas, even with all the whiskey in the liquor cabinet. 

Samantha had been visiting Anais nearly every night. They talked: not about their pasts, or their futures, but about the now. Funny things that had happened to Samantha at work, or the walks in the woods Anais took during the day. 

That night, they made a fire and snuggled together under a blanket. Usually, they kept their distance physically, but Samantha had been growing more and more comfortable with Anais. This felt comfortable.

“I’m not from Chicago,” Anais said suddenly, as they stared into the flames together. 

“I know. You said that the first night.”

“No, I mean—“ Anais shook her head. “I’m not from Chicago. I’m from New York. But I came here from Chicago. I robbed a bank—or I tried. I got away, but I had to go somewhere I wouldn’t recognized.” 

“You’re joking.” Samantha pulled back a little to study Anais’ face. She looked serious.

“Let me show you something.” Anais stood up, and Samantha shivered in the sudden cold, as well as the nerves coursing through her at the revelation of Anais’ past. 

Anais returned with a newspaper clipping describing a bank robbery just outside of Chicago. There was a photo of a woman who looked like Anais, but with longer hair, a hat low over her eyes.

“When I was younger, I had to make my own way in the world,” Anais said, before Samantha could ask any more questions. “The thefts started out small. I was good at it. I got cocky. But it felt so good to show them that I could be the powerful one.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Samantha asked, drawing Anais back down beside her. 

“I trust you.”

Their eyes met, and Samantha didn’t want to talk about it any more. Bolder than she’d ever been, she leaned forward and kissed Anais. It was all the answer they needed. 

***

They drove out of Michigan on the first day of spring, the cash from Rodney’s in the trunk. They were on the run now, and Sam had never felt more alive. She had never imagined herself as a criminal, but Anais was right-—this was power. 

The planning had happened quickly. The week before, they stood in a muddy, abandoned field and Anais showed Sam how to use a gun. Then they plotted out how to take Rodney’s. It had been easy, though, with Sam’s insider knowledge. 

She’d left Rodney cowering in the kitchen, and flicked him across the face with a towel as they walked away with the money. 

“Where to next?” Sam asked as they put more and more distance between themselves and Oak Bend. 

“Chicago.” Anais grinned at her. “Okay—we’ll practice first. Work our way across Michigan and Illinois until we get there. I have a bank I need to get back to, and with your help, we can make it work this time.”

“Maybe if we don’t get distracted along the way.” Sam slid her feet out of her new high heels, stretching her aching toes. “Tonight I think I’d just like a nice bath.”

“I agree.” Anais winked at her. 

They booked into a bed and breakfast in a charming little town, acting like old college friends for the front desk. 

Anais and Sam spent the night tangled together in bed, and it was perfect. Sam would always remember that night, before things got complicated, still riding on the high of their first successful heist. 

***

Sam never thought she’d make the front page of the paper. 

Definitely not the Chicago Tribune. 

She smiled to herself from behind the paper, taking another sip of her coffee. Anais was out gathering supplies for tomorrow’s big heist, and Sam was at a cafe in the middle of Chicago, wearing a brand new dress and ignoring the strange looks she was getting as a woman alone. 

When a tall older man approached, Sam didn’t give him a second glance. At least not until he sat down across from her and calmly slid his police badge across the table. 

Sam forced herself to lower the newspaper slowly and regard the man with a cool gaze. “Can I help you, officer?”

“Yes, you can.” He pocketed the badge again, folding his arms and leaning back casually. “I know who you are, Samantha. Nice girl from Michigan. Don’t know what you’re doing with a thief, but we might be willing to forgive that. If you turn her in.”

She shook her head, feeling for the knife she kept hidden in an inner pocket of her dress. She’d sewn it in just this morning. “No.” 

The officer inclined his head. “I understand you’re afraid, but we’ll protect you from her. She’ll be behind bars.”

Her hand stilled over the knife. “You think she manipulated me?” Now, Sam had to fight from smiling too hard. “You misunderstand.”

“I think you’ll make the right choice. You have until tomorrow, whenever this heist is.” The cop—-he hadn’t even introduced himself, how rude—-stood and towered over her for a moment, before inclining his head and wishing her good day. 

Sam remained in the cafe long enough to finish her coffee, not wanting to draw attention, and then she hurried back to the hotel. The police knew they were planning something, but didn’t know when the heist was. They could still do this. 

***

It was all going according to plan. One of the most prestigious banks in Chicago, and Sam and Anais had everyone at their mercy. The tellers and customers were on the ground, cowering. Every time they did this, it got better. The only other thing that made her this happy was being with Anais, just the two of them. 

That was perfection. But this? This was pretty sweet too. 

Sam opened the register and shifted through the cash while Anais placed explosives on the safe, where the real jackpot lay. 

Just a few more minutes, and they’d be outta here. 

As much as they loved it—-maybe they could quit after this. Live off of the fortune, escape to someplace nice together. As addictive as this life could be, Anais was more important to her. 

She heard sirens outside. 

Sam turned to tell Anais to hurry. They could still run away if they moved quickly. Attention back on the register for a moment, she began stuffing cash into her purse. 

Her brain didn’t connect the dots at first. There was a gunshot, and Anais was down, and there was blood on the floor. “Anais, let’s go!” Sam shouted, but then she realized that Anais was the one that had been shot. Around her, the customers were fleeing, but it seemed to Sam that they were going in slow motion. She didn’t scream or cry. Nothing more than a pained gasp escaped her as she fell to her knees on the tiled floor.

Maybe if they got to a hospital. “Come on, you’ll pull through,” Sam whispered, cradling Anais in her lap. But the light had already faded from Anais’ beautiful blue eyes. 

It should have been her. She was the inexperienced one, the weak one. 

But no. She wasn’t weak. And the cops waiting outside were about to regret what they had done. 

Blocking out the sorrow, she felt numb as she removed the explosives from the safe and placed them in the suitcase meant for the money. Then, with a final kiss on Anais’ cold lips, she walked outside. 

The cop from yesterday was there. The bastard winked at her. _I always knew you were a nice girl._

She looked him in the eyes and threw.


End file.
